


The Cat and the Canary

by Bereift



Series: FFXIV [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Some Fluff, Some Plot, Some angst, for fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-01-01 09:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18333413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bereift/pseuds/Bereift
Summary: The (mis)adventures of two Miqo'te's: A'vanoh Weiss and R'indae Zhwan.





	1. Disquietude (Part 1/2)

**Author's Note:**

> (I've, basically, lost control of my life. Title is also a placeholder until I can actually think of something worthwhile).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R'indae's POV

R’indae always preferred when A’vanoh didn’t step foot upon the battlefield. Although he knew that A’vanoh could hold his own in a fight, he didn’t like seeing the healer out on the field. When he did, however, R’indae would watch as A’vanoh darted around fights to heal anyone he could as he tried to stay out of harm’s way. It was impressive to watch, and R’indae swore he had seen A’vanoh bash his staff into a foe more than once to get them out of his way.

A majority of the time, A’vanoh could be found in the healer tents to tend to the wounded. There were nights where R’indae would wait patiently for him to return to his tent to wish him a goodnight, only to wake up to see that he had fallen asleep right by the entrance of A’vanoh’s tent with the other Miqo’te nowhere in sight - in or outside of the tent. On those mornings, R’indae would find him in one of the tents set up for intensive care, tending to someone who was possibly on the brink of death the night prior. A’vanoh would walk out not too long after the sun broke over the horizon, looking exhausted, but relieved. On those days, it was always a little alarming to see so much of someone else's blood on A’vanoh.

It was even worse when A’vanoh was caked in his own blood.

The scene that had transpired before R’indae passed by in the blink of an eye. One moment, A’vanoh was on the outskirts of the battle before them, and in the next, he was in R’indae’s arms – blood covering his pristine white coat and his staff discarded off to the side. There was a deep, jagged cut across his torso; cutting through the layers of leather armour that A’vanoh wore under his coat. The guttural wheeze that escaped from him before he fell unconscious terrified R’indae. He knew A’vanoh wasn’t invisible, and knew that he could heal most wounds, but seeing him like that had pulled R'indae back into the reality of the war. 

All R’indae could recall from the event was bolting away from the fighting while the screams of the warriors and the dying echoed around him, to hearing his boots slap against the cobblestone as he reached the healer tents back at the camp. 

Now, several hours later, he found himself sitting outside of the tent. He hadn’t moved an inch since he handed over A’vanoh to one of chirurgeons, a mixture of being too tired to move to wanting to the first to hear any news of his recovery. Several conjurers passed by him with an assortment of bandages in their arms, hurrying into the tent without so much of a word to him. A few would gaze down at him for a second before moving the flap to enter. He had focused on the sounds coming from within the tent to drown out the thoughts that wandered across his mind; of people groaning and dying, the conjurers and chirurgeons working tirelessly to save their comrades, and the sobs of those that had lost someone dear to them. 

The sun was low on the horizon by the time one of the conjurers - an older looking Xaela man - popped their head out of the tent to look down at R’indae; squinting as the dying sun’s rays shone over the land. He knew he probably looked a little worse for wear - his own leather armour was speckled with A’vanoh’s blood from carrying him, and his boots and trousers were caked in mud from running back to the camp. With a tiny nod of their head, the conjurer held open the tent flap, a sign that he could finally enter. 

R’indae pushed himself up and off the cobblestone, brushing away any dirt that clung to his pants as he made his way into the tent. The smell of antiseptic hit his nostrils first, almost overpowering the many herbs that were scattered across the many tabletops within the tent. A high pitch whistle of a kettle over a fire pierced the air blocked out the groans of the wounded, and R’indae’s eyes swept over them as they laid in their cots. White sheets were covered over a few of them, and several still had conjurers working fervently at the side of the cots. He believed he heard the cry of a newborn at least once, coupled with a sob of relief. 

The conjurer led him deeper into the tent, in an area that was tucked away from most of the wounded. As they approached the draping covering the tiny section, the conjurer stopped short in his steps, and let out a heavy sigh as he turned to look down at R’indae once more. “I must tell you something, before we enter any deeper into our tents.” He whispered, his voice as rough as a chocobo cart going over gravel. R’indae cocked his head to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest, listening intently. “We have done the best that we can. He was badly wounded, and will require a lot of rest.” The Xaela man ran a hand through his lightly coloured hair, letting it rest at the nape of his neck. “I have worked with him personally for quite some time now, and I have learned that he is…not very good at resting. I ask that you please watch over him. He won’t listen to us - least, when it comes to his own health.” The man said, before stepping off to the side to let R’indae enter. 

He didn’t say a word back to the man, but gave him a nod of acknowledgement. He wasn’t wrong about A’vanoh - he would work himself to death if they didn’t kick him out of the healer tent, and the one time he goes into the field is the first time he actually ends up in one of them for his own health. 

R’indae held in a sigh as he entered the space they were keeping A’vanoh. He cared about the Miqo’te deeply, but he couldn’t stand how hard he worked himself. If push came to shove, he would have to find a way to make A’vanoh rest.

It was dimly lit in the area they were keeping A’vanoh. Other than the cot they had him placed on, there was a tiny desk with a stool tucked under it. The desk had an assortment of elixirs upon it, none of which R’indae could recognize. The coat A’vanoh usually donned was on the ground beside the table, folded carefully. The blood spatters had soaked through it, ruining the fabric. The leather armour that he typically wore underneath was rested against the coat, also torn and useless. Judging by how they looked, there was no good way to repair either piece, and R’indae frowned. Hopefully they both had enough gil to afford a new set for A’vanoh, but that thought could wait until later. He slowly turned on his heels to face the cot, and closed his eyes. 

Although he had waited all day to see A’vanoh, R’indae was…nervous. Even though the Xaela had hinted that A’vanoh would pull through, he was scared to see the wound A’vanoh had sustained. Slowly and carefully, R’indae took a couple of steps with his hand outstretched at waist level so he could find the cot when he reached it. His fingers touched the cold metal, and he wrapped his fingers around it, using it to ground himself. Sucking in a breath, R’indae leaned over the cot and opened his eyes to look at A’vanoh.

He looked…better than R’indae had anticipated. They had cleaned all of the blood that had marked his face and collar, and had gotten the dirt out of his snow white hair. His glasses were gone, and R’indae assumed that they were on the desk behind him. A thin blanket was pulled up to his collar, covering most of his bandaged chest. The image that he had in his head of A’vanoh was much more grotesque. He expected more blood, and for him to look even worse than he already was. 

R’indae watched with baited breath as A’vanoh stirred ever so slightly; his golden eyes slowly cracking open as he took a shuddering breath in through his mouth. A’vanoh blinked several times, his eyes slowly focusing upon R’indae, who gripped the railing of the cot so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. 

“D-dae? Is that you?” A’vanoh croaked out as he tried to shift on his cot, before squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a tiny noise of pain. R’indae immediately removed his hand from the railing and reached out to place his hand upon A’vanoh’s shoulder, gently pushing him back down. As A’vanoh opened his mouth to speak once again, R’indae took his hand off of A’vanoh’s shoulder, and placed a finger upon his lips to silence him. 

“Van, please rest for once in your life.” R’indae muttered, his expression softening as he looked at A’vanoh, who was frowning at him. “You were almost mortally wounded. I don’t want to have to call the healer that is standing outside in because you overexerted yourself in your own cot.” R’indae said, moving his finger off of A’vanoh’s lips so he could cup his cheek. A'vanoh leaned into his touch, nuzzling his cheek against his hand. 

As R’indae stood beside the cot, letting his thumb slide back and forth across A’vanoh’s cheek, his ears folded back as he heard the drapes shuffle slightly as someone poked their head through. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he spotted the Xaela that had been standing watch outside peering in, gesturing for R’indae to come back outside before returning to his post just beyond the entrance. His time with A’vanoh was up. 

Leaning over the cot once more, R’indae planted a gentle kiss upon A’vanoh’s forehead, and pulled himself away. “Just rest. I won’t be too far away.” R’indae told him quietly. A few, but barely audible chirps could be heard on the other side of the cloth beside A’vanoh’s cot. A typical sparrow suddenly fluttered up to rest upon the edge of the cot after having wormed his way under the fabric. It was hard for R’indae to not chuckle at the sight of Arte wiggling his way in - that sparrow had defied many odds before, and he was never too far away from A’vanoh. 

Knowing that he would be in good hands, R’indae stepped away from the cot and back into the main area of the healer tent. He had several things to do before the day finished, but he would hear what the conjurer had to say before he did.


	2. Disquietude (Part 2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A'vanoh's POV

It had taken over a week of rest, but A’vanoh was grateful to finally be back on his own two feet. He had grown tired, and frankly a little frustrated, over having one of the other conjurers supporting him as he tried to get his bearings once more. He still couldn’t fully stretch without having pain shoot through up and over his chest and collar, and the head chirurgeon kept checking on him daily between their rounds - making sure that one of their best was still alive.

He didn’t blame them either. A’vanoh was sure he was close to dying from his wound. He knew that he had R’indae to thank for saving his life; if he had not intervened when he did, A’vanoh knew that he would of passed that day. 

Which was a bit...too much to think upon. He had seen people die - whether by the wounds they received in battle, or the infections that fell upon them if not tended to swiftly. He knew he was mortal, but the thought of dying never truly passed by in this thoughts; he was more concerned with saving those who could die if he didn’t work diligently or quickly enough. 

A’vanoh placed a hand over his bandaged chest, and let his fingers run across where the wound was. He’d mull upon those thoughts later. They became overwhelming if he thought too much about them. He had a selfish mission to fulfill this day, and trudging through his worries was not one of them.

Pulling on one of the spare tunics and trousers that were left upon the desk, A’vanoh made his way out of the tiny section of the tent that he has been recovering in. He was craving fresh air, and hoped that it was a sunny day so he could enjoy the rays of the sun upon his skin.

Nudging through the thick fabric and tracing his steps through the healer tent, A’vanoh tiptoed his way through. He didn’t want to be caught by any of the conjurers on his way out to be brought back to his cot. As he got closer to the main hall, A’vanoh tugged one of the robes that hung off of a makeshift coat hanger and quickly pulled the hood over his head to hide his hair and ears. He would stick out like a sore thumb and would be easily noticed if he didn’t hide himself.

Weaving through the conjurers that bustled around him, A’vanoh kept his head down with his ears bent back, and muttered out apologizes as he bumped into several people as he rushed out of the tent. When his bare feet hit warm stone, A’vanoh let out a small sigh of relief. He had made it out without being noticed, which he was impressed about. Lifting his head a tiny bit, A’vanoh slowly made his way towards the grassy plains that laid not too far from the camp. A few trees dotted the plains, which would be the perfect place to relax compared to the stuffiness of the tent. It was too loud for his liking as of late, and he just wanted a moment of peace and quiet.

As he drew closer to the tree that was a bit away from the campsite, A’vanoh shook the hood off of his head, and stopped in his tracks to stare up at the brilliant blue sky above him. There was barely a cloud in sight, and the warmth of the sun felt better than he expected. He stood with his mouth agape as several birds flew overhead, flying south towards Thanalan. 

“You should get your head out of the clouds.”

A’vanoh flinched, spinning on his heels to look at who was speaking to him. There stood R’indae; his bow strapped to his back and his hands crossed over his chest as he frowned at A’vanoh. “Ah, uhm-” A’vanoh stuttered, trying to regain his composure. R’indae wasn’t wrong, he probably should be attentive to the area surrounding them. They may be a bit far from the battlefield, but that didn’t mean he should assume he was safe. He didn’t have a single thing on him that could used as a weapon, and he still felt a little too weak to be able to conjure basic magic. 

R’indae huffed, taking two long strides to reach A’vanoh. The bard was eyeing him intensely, almost like a mother chocobo watching over a chick. “I know that you can barely stand resting, but you should still not push yourself too hard, Van.” R’indae said, and A’vanoh rolled his eyes at him.

“I’m not. I just wanted to go for a little walk.” A’vanoh replied, to which R’indae cocked a brow up at him for, seemingly unfazed.

“And going barefoot is a good idea?” R’indae retorted. A’vanoh shrugged at him.

“You’ve never complained about it before.”

R’indae ran a hand across his face, and let out an exasperated sigh. “This is different. You’re not at your best. You should be wearing shoes - I wouldn’t even care if they were my boots right now.” 

A’vanoh let out a sharp laugh at that. “We both know I wouldn’t fit in them. They’re too bulky for me anyway.” A’vanoh noted with a grin on his face before turning on his heels to look out across the grassland once again. A warm breeze blew across the plains, and a gentle smile came to rest upon A’vanoh’s face. “You had followed me from the healer tent to here, didn’t you, Dae?” 

A warm pair of arms wrapped around A’vanoh’s waist, pulling him into an embrace. He leaned a little onto R’indae, and A’vanoh let his hands rest upon his. “Of course I did. I saw that you were not in your cot, and made haste to find you. It wasn’t hard to notice someone hobbling out into the plains barefoot, wearing a robe that barely covered the end of their tail.”

A’vanoh groaned to himself. He did have a fleeting thought of shoving his tail into one of his trouser legs when he left his room, and didn’t go through with it because it sounded uncomfortable. Least R’indae was the only one that caught onto it.

R’indae let out a short chortle at A’vanoh’s displeasure, his long hair brushing against A’vanoh’s cheek as he tightened his hold around his waist slightly. “I was also very concerned for you. I was about ready to raise hell the moment I noticed that you weren’t where you should of been. I just ask that you don’t wander off while you’re still recovering without someone at your side, okay?” R’indae asked, and A’vanoh hummed to himself in thought. 

“Or we could just sneak out ourselves. It wouldn’t be that hard.” A’vanoh mused. 

“Oh? And when do you suppose we do that? At night?” R’indae quipped back.

“Why not? It hasn’t stopped us before. It wouldn't be the first time.” A’vanoh claimed boldly, knowing full well that he was definitely missing the blush that was spreading across R’indae’s cheeks. A disappointment, really. 

“Van, please. Now is not the time.” R’indae mumbled, and A’vanoh smiled to himself. He completed one goal for today - to fluster R’indae. “Come, we should return. Someone is bound to be looking for you now.” R’indae said softly, removing his arms from around A’vanoh and placing one of his hands into his, intertwining their fingers together. 

With one final inhale of fresh air, A’vanoh turned back towards the camp and walked hand in hand with R’indae back. He was thankful that he survived, and would have to find a way to pay R’indae back for it.


	3. Nebula (Part 1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> me, to Kuri: what if i made rindae and avanoh parents  
> Kuri: DO IT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R'indae's POV

It was a cool, summer evening when R’indae had found her. 

He had just gotten off of the airship in New Gridania after visiting his mother for a little over a week, who lived close to Summerford Farms in La Noscea. He had not seen her in quite some time - librating Ala Mhigo and Doma beside A’vanoh, which had taken several years to do, as well as the whole ordeal in Ishgard - and assumed that he had last saw her shortly before they were framed for the Sultana’s death in Ul’dah six years prior. A’vanoh was the one that nudged him to go see her, especially after she began sending letters to their home in the Lavender Beds. 

It had taken more energy than anything. R’indae had to work up the courage to do so. It had seemed much longer than 6 years since he had last saw her, and with everything that had happened in that time - all the battles fought and won, all the scars he has gained, the despair of losing comrades in arms - he was worried that she would treat him differently after he told her about those tales. A’vanoh had told him time and time again, whenever the conversation of him visiting her came up in the early mornings over breakfast, that she was his mother and would accept him for who he was and that he had very little to worry about. 

To which, A’vanoh wasn’t wrong about. His mother was ecstatic to see him, and she looked exactly how he remembered her, but with a few wrinkles on her face, some of her hair starting to go grey, and a few new scars on her arms. She was her typical, active self on the coastlines of La Noscea - hunting the wildlife and fishing in the ocean, as well as trading with the merchants in Limsa Lominsa whatever she was able to catch for the things she needed. The little cottage was still standing, although it needed a few more repairs after several storms battered against the aging wood. Nothing she couldn’t handle she had said when R’indae asked about it and offered to help. They had talked about almost everything in the time he was there, and had hunted together, just like old times. 

It was nice to be back on the coastline of La Noscea with barely a care in the world. 

Returning back to Gridania had been a bit difficult. The airship had been delayed twice due to stormy weather off of the coast, and no one wanted to risk it. R’indae had huffed impatiently upon hearing about it on the landing strip, quietly mumbling to himself that he had dealt with more than just stormy weather on an airship. A bit of stormy weather on an airship would be delightful compared to the multitudes of times he had almost been shot out of the air by a Garlean Battleship during the liberation of Doma and Ala Mhigo, but R’indae didn’t bother arguing with the receptionist, as others had done so while waiting to leave. 

A storm did rip through the area not too long after, but subsided much faster than anyone anticipated. _“A prelude to summer.”_ Grumbled one of the adventurers on board the ship to his friend beside him, and then they were off to Gridania. 

They had made it to the Black Shroud late in the afternoon. The sun was slowly beginning its descent behind the tall trees that surrounded Gridania on all sides, and the Adventurer’s Guild was full to the brim with people. Mother Miounne had her hands full. She was busy enlisting new adventurers, all whom were bright eyed and bushy tailed R’indae thought as he watched them for a brief moment, as well as attempting to help out her staff as they served those that were having a meal in the guild. 

Usually, R’indae would take a moment to speak to her if he was in the Guild, but he decided against it. He wanted to tell A’vanoh of his time back at home: from the hunting stories of him and his mother prowling the coastline, to the drunken fistfight he saw right outside of the Drowning Wench, and showing him the fish he was able to preserve to bring back to Gridania. He also really wanted to take a hot bath, which was going to be priority the moment he stepped foot into their little home. 

However, and R’indae knew this already, things never go as planned. Ever.

Upon leaving the Adventurer’s Guild and making his way into Old Gridania, R’indae felt this odd...tug in his gut. A desire to walk through the forest to make his way back home was calling him. Finding it odd, but trusting in this feeling, R’indae decided to take the long route - going through Central Shroud and past Bentbranch. 

As he passed through Bentbranch, the sun had slowly been inching ever so closer towards the horizon, bathing the grove in a light, orange glow. R’indae knew that it would grow dark very soon, and that wandering the Shroud during the night was a miserable idea. During the day, the woods were safe. Nothing would spring out and attack anyone who wandered by, unless you went too close towards the ‘Touched’ Sylph lands, where everything - including the plants! - would try to off an unsuspecting explorer. But at night, however, there was this...eerie presence that surrounded the Shroud. The Lavender Beds and Gridania were untouched by it, as well as many of the settlements, but R’indae always felt the fur of his tail stand on end when in the Shroud late at night. He would only leave at night if A’vanoh was with him, the man almost acting as a ward to keep whatever it was at bay. 

He did try to ask A’vanoh once about it, several months ago, but the silence and the haunting look on his face was enough to stop R'indae from ever asking again. 

R’indae had picked up his pace, his boots crunching the leaves underfoot. The birds had retreated to their roosts for the evening, and the owls came out in droves, taking their spots within the branches overhead. He cursed under his breath. Time was running out, and he did not want to be stuck in the dark. 

A minute wail from not too far off made his ears perk up and swivel in the direction that it came from. He paused in his step, waiting patiently for it to echo through the woods once more. It had done so a moment later, and R’indae chewed on his bottom lip. He could go out and search for the source, but he would risk suffering in the night of the Shroud. It would be safer to return home, he thought to himself, instead of taking even more of a detour. It could just be the wail of one of the deer that frolic through the forest this early in the evening that got caught in a trap. 

Taking three steps forward, the intense feeling in his gut returned, and grew in intensity with each step he tried to take after. R’indae let out an aggravated sigh, and turned in the direction of the wailing. Wandering closer and closer towards the origin of the wailing, the woods grew thicker as the brush grew more wild. He had pulled a dagger from his waist and cut through the brush, cursing whenever a thorn got snagged onto his tunic. 

R’indae came to a clearing in the brush, sweat lining his brow after beating back the bushes that blocked the way. As he put the dagger back in its sheath, he heard a whimper come from the center of the clearing, and there was no animal there - which was what he was expecting. Instead, there was a small, brown wicker basket placed upon the grass. He approached it with caution; staying hunched over with one hand close to the handle of his dagger as his ears flattened against his head, and he used his tail for balanced as he tiptoed over to the basket. It could be a voidsent for all he knew. 

Circling it once, R’indae creeped up to the basket to crouch before it, and spied a bundle within. The fabric wasn’t wrapped fully around whatever was within, and he could make out a shuffling mass underneath. Judging by the craftsmanship of it, the cloth itself was eloquently made - a rich violet colour with a flowery pattern stitched into it with black thread. It would run for a decent amount of gil on the market.

Extending a hand into the basket, R’indae carefully reached up to grasp at the tip of the cloth, which was soft against his calloused fingers. Tugging it down to expose what was within, he almost fell backwards on his heels in shock. 

A small Hyur, maybe Elezen, R’indae noted after glancing at their tip of their ears, babe was within the bundle. They cooed up at R’indae as he peered down at them, his ears pointing straight up as he listened to the child gurgle at him. He lowered his head into the basket, and the child reached up with a hand to grasp at his ears, to which R’indae pulled back from before they had a chance to. 

Gods, what was a _baby_ doing in the middle of the Shroud?

Glancing within the basket as the child stared up at him with bright, blue eyes, R’indae spotted the corner of a letter peeking out from under the fabric. Pinching it with between his forefinger and his thumb, he pulled it out of the basket and tore it open by the corner in one swift motion. A scarlet letter tumbled from it and onto the grass below. 

Odd.

The child continued to watch him with curiosity, their hands outstretched towards him. R’indae glanced between the letter and the child, and reached within once more to let the infant grasp his hand. With his free one, he swiped the letter from the ground, and looked over it. He had a terrible time understanding most of it, and folded it close to stick in his rucksack. The child was content with squeezing his hand, and R’indae peeked over at them once more. 

He couldn't just...leave the child here. That much he knew. But to bring it back to the Lavender Beds….

R’indae groaned, hanging his head. There was only one option, and he knew what it was. Stretching his free hand into the basket, he carefully freed his hand from the infant’s grasp, who seemed very unhappy about that. They started wailing, loudly, much to R’indae’s displeasure. Standing back up, and hearing his knees pop as he did so, R’indae reached down to pluck the basket from the grass, and held it at so he could keep an eye on the child within.

He shushed them gently as he made his way through the woods once more, and hurried home. Darkness had fallen, and although he knew he should be worried about the presence that lurked within the Shroud, but tonight, he didn’t feel it at all. No fear welled up inside of him, and the only things he heard other than his boots hitting the dirt beneath his feet were the owls and the crickets, singing their tunes.


	4. Nebula (Part 2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A'vanoh's POV

A’vanoh was beginning to grow worried. 

Night had fallen a while ago, and R’indae was nowhere to be found. He had been waiting patiently, sitting in his typical chair by the door with a book in his hands since early afternoon - around the time R’indae said he would be back by. He had gone through most of his book, spoken to the neighbours that had passed by through his open window, and even had begun to prep dinner; which has been simmering in the pot upon the stove not too far from him for a couple of hours. 

It was odd for R’indae to be….this late. 

A’vanoh let out a worried sigh. He hoped that R’indae had not gotten caught up in some activity at the Adventurer’s Guild again. He didn’t want to make his way to Gridania to pry him out of there, even if it had been months since he had to last do that. Plus, there was some ale in a jug in one of the cupboards. Easier to pour a cup of that than to pay for a pint somewhere else. 

Pushing himself up and out of his chair, A’vanoh left his book upon the cushion to stretch his hands above his head. He was starting to doze off where he sat, and didn’t want to be out cold in his chair when R’indae arrived. 

Truth be told, he had missed him a little. It had been a little too quiet in the house since R’indae left, and A’vanoh had grown very use to them being close together over the past few months. With Ala Mhigo and Doma liberated from the Empire, A’vanoh threw up his hands and told everyone he was taking a break. Which was accepted for with no questions from the other Scions. Especially after taking down Shinryu. 

That battle in itself was long and audious, and the fact that he still lived to tell the tale impressed A’vanoh some days. 

Dragging himself from his chair while he rubbed at his eyes, A’vanoh made his way towards the kitchen to check on the stew he had set on the stove several hours ago. Plucking the lid from it, a well of steam blew out of the pot while the mixture of thyme and rosemary whafted up from the pot. Taking the ladle from the countertop beside the stove, A’vanoh slowly mixed the contents within, growing satisfied with how it was cooking. It was basically done by this point, and safe to take off of the stove. 

Placing the ladle back on the counter and putting the lid back upon the pot, A’vanoh smothered out the fire beneath the pot with a quick snap of his fingers. Water immediately poured over it, snuffling it out while barely leaving a drop upon the floor. All that was left to do was to wait for the stew to cool, and for R’indae to return home. 

A’vanoh made his way back towards his chair, deciding that he should just finish read the book he was borrowing from one of the Conjurers in Stillglade Fane until R’indae did return back to their home. As he placed one hand upon the spine of the book, A’vanoh nearly jumped out of his skin when someone slammed their fist upon his front door, and he swore the window panes shook as the door rattled. 

“Coming! I’ll be right there!” A’vanoh shouted, regaining his composure while he made his way to the door. Who would be at the door at this hour? R’indae had a key to get in….

A’vanoh opened the door just a sliver, and peered out between the crack. There stood R’indae, who looked a bit distraught, holding a wicker basket in his hands. A low giggle came from the basket, and A’vanoh’s ears shot right up. What was in the basket?

He pulled the door fully open, and R’indae strolled in, his shoulders hunched and his ears turned sideways. A’vanoh slowly closed the door as he kept his eyes on R’indae, who placed the basket upon the table directly across from the door. The door clicked shut, and A’vanoh turned the latch above the knob to lock it. 

He treaded forward carefully, coming to stand beside R’indae. Within the basket was a tiny babe, no older than seven months old from what A’vanoh could tell, who seemed as happy as can be, looking up at both of them with wide, blue eyes. 

“Dae…” A’vanoh murmured, reaching within the basket to adjust the lilac cloth within. It was soft to the touch, and looked like it was very well made. It wasn’t snug around the child, who was rustling around in the cloth. They shuffled their pudgy arms out of under the cloth, and reached out towards them, their fingers curling and uncurling while they cooed at both of them. “Dae, where in the world did you find this infant?” A’vanoh asked quietly, glancing over his glasses and up at R’indae, who held his face in his hands. 

“In the middle of a clearing of bushes in Central Shroud.” R’indae replied, a bit muffled by his hands. “They were by themselves. I couldn’t just leave them there.” 

A’vanoh took a deep breath. Ah, lovely. “Was there anything left with the child?” 

R’indae nodded, pulling his hands from his face. A’vanoh watched as he shrugged off his rucksack and rummaged through it for a brief moment, making a mental note to question R’indae about the brine smell coming from within it later, holding a folded letter. It was dyed scarlet. A bad sign. 

R’indae held it out towards A’vanoh, looking a bit sheepish. “I couldn’t fully understand the contents within. I was hoping you would explain it later.” R’indae mumbled, rubbing the palm of his hand against the back of his neck. A’vanoh took it gingerly from R’indae’s hand, and flipped it open. The whole letter was dyed a brilliant scarlet, and had a gold trim around the edges. Whoever wrote it had a good deal of gil to their name, that much was for sure. 

_'To Whom it May Concern,_

_I am writing this letter in hopes that you find it, along with my child, in one piece. I also regret to inform you that if you have found this, I am at my wits end. I committed a sin with a Highborn, married man, believing in his wicked wiles and falling for his seduction. I was lavished with gifts and more money than any lowborn maid should be allowed to own. I should of never of accepted his temptations, and grew fat with a child._

_I ran out of excuses, and fled with my child in hopes that she would not suffer an ill fate due to my own mistakes. I had named her Astra, in hopes that she shines as bright as the stars above our heads, and because every time I look into her eyes, they remind me of how much the stars twinkled in the Dravanian Forelands; a land I had visited once, shortly after peace between the Dragons and Ishgard was achieved._

_I hope you grant her succor into your own home, and treat her with the kindness that I never will be able to. I do love her with all my heart, and please, please keep her safe.'_

The letter ended there, the penmanship growing rougher as the one who wrote it continued. There were a few ink blotches upon it, and there were several tear stains that caused the ink to smudge on the paper. 

A’vanoh rose a hand to rub his fingers against his temple. “Well. This is quite the situation we have found ourselves in.” A’vanoh mumbled under his breath. He looked over at R’indae, who was letting the child play by squeezing the palm of his hand in her fingers. R’indae looked a little content, cooing back at the child as his tail swayed back and forth slowly. He noticed A’vanoh watching him out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to look at him.

“Van, what should we do?” R’indae asked, and A’vanoh sucked in a breath through his mouth before letting it exhale through his nose. 

“Well, I’ll have to contact Kan-E-Senna in the morning and see what she says.” 

R’indae seemed disappointed at hearing that, his ears drooping. “I found her. I’m sure we could care for her.”

A’vanoh stared at him in disbelief, and rubbed his face with his hands. “Dae, we have a lot on our plates already.”

“And what is one more thing to add to it, hm?” R’indae countered, shrugging his shoulders at A’vanoh. The child giggled happily, a whole hand wrapped around one of his fingers. Although the sight was very touching to A’vanoh, he grew anxious. 

Being protectors of the realm was one thing. Caring for a child was another. Both didn’t mesh well together. 

“I can tell you’re thinking too deeply into this, Van. Come, let’s talk to Kan-E-Senna now so we don’t have to worry.” R’indae proposed, and A’vanoh sputtered.

“It is quite late! We should not infringe upon her this late in the evening.” A’vanoh retorted, and R’indae rolled his eyes at him. 

“There’s been several times where we have requested her presence late in the evening.” 

“Dae, that was when there was an emergency.”

“And what makes this not an emergency?” R’indae stated, his tail swishing behind him angrily. 

A’vanoh put his hands into his hair, his ears flat against his head while his fingers twisted into the strands. Technically, they could pass this as one. A small child was out in the Shroud wilderness for who knows how long. The Elementals could view this as an intrusion if they were not careful. He may be a White Mage, but he couldn’t hear the Elementals like the Seedseers could. 

“Fine. I’ll see if we can get ahold of her.” A’vanoh said. He, frankly, wanted to wait until the morning. R’indae perked up immediately, and pivoted on his heel to scoop the infant, Astra, from her basket. He kept her close to him as A’vanoh pulled on a pair of sandals he kept close to the door, and adjusted his shirt so he didn’t look like he just rolled out of a bed. 

He hoped that getting ahold of the Seedseer was easier done than said this evening.


End file.
